Lucifer

- Previously on Lucifer... - God cursed Cain

because he killed his own brother.

She's the key to finally getting

- what I've always wanted. - Just wish I knew that.

Pierce's intentions were pure.

If you want to take it slow, that's okay,

but from where I stand, I'm all in.

I told you not to talk to Charlotte.

She's a human woman

who isn't ready to hear what you have to say.

I was in Hell. And that's insane.

Charlotte, do you have a minute?

At this point, things can't get any crazier.

I am done with Earth

in general. I want to go home.

Last time I took someone on a celestial Uber ride,

the detective almost died.

You're afraid of your daddy?

You are gonna regret this.

I can help us both get what we want.

Where's my money?

I just don't have it. I lost it.

What do you mean you lost it? Where is it?

What do you want me to say?

9-1-1. What is your emergency?

- Hello? People are fighting in my house. - Come on, Kevin.

Kevin, stop.

Oh...

Good morning, Detective Decker.

- Good morning, Lieutenant Pierce. - Hey.

Have you seen the evidence closet?

Uh... no.

Wow.

This is a great closet.

And, um...

Oh, yeah.

Get some, Decker.

Look at that.

It's always nice to start the day

nose to nose, isn't it?

Speaking of, you'll never guess

what happened to me last night, Detective.

What's that?

I woke up alone.

- And? - It's funny because

I usually don't, because I usually

have women over, or men, or both for sex.

Okay.

Will he be

coming with you from now on?

Because he is killing our banter.

Absolutely not, no.

Pierce and I only came...

Drove together just this one time.

One time.

- Right. - Apparently...

the victim's from a well-connected family.

The suits downtown want me to keep them in the loop.

Don't worry, I won't interfere

with the investigation,

- or the, uh, dream team. - Uh-uh.

Now, if you'll excuse me.

Okay. Shall we?

Uh... you have DNA on your shirt.

What?

Oh... um...

Oh, weird.

Hey, Ella, what's up?

You tell me what's up, player.

So, dead guy?

There must be an I.D.

Right.

Here lies Kevin Winstead

of the Winsteads.

34 years old.

The Winsteads?

The wealthy real estate family from New York.

Oh. So, what's he doing getting killed

in such a crappy neighborhood?

Apparently, he rented a room here.

Not sure why he would, but Kevin

was notoriously the black sheep of the Winstead clan.

Heroin addiction.

Although...

from the looks of these healed track marks,

it appears that Kevin might have gone clean recently.

Not an easy thing to do.

And, apparently, a waste of his time.

What was the cause of death?

Gunshot wound to the chest.

- Shot during a home invasion robbery? - Maybe.

But the killer never got around to taking anything.

Got interrupted by the house's owner.

Oh, that poor boy.

He seemed nice.

- Why don't you tell me what happened. - I was sleeping,

and I heard glass breaking,

so I went down to check it out.

And then I heard arguing.

Uh, what were they arguing about?

The voices were muffled, but I did hear someone say,

"Kevin, stop."

So, the intruder knew the victim.

The former heroin addict had nefarious friends.

- Shocking. - Did you get

a good look at the guy?

He was wearing a mask.

I would be dead for sure

if God hadn't sent that angel to protect me.

So, there was someone else in the house.

Not another person.

An angel, who saved me.

It-it flew in here,

and it just chased the evil man away.

I'm sorry, sorry, it's just the only thing

my siblings would chase away are a good time.

I have proof.

The angel...

he took one of my figurines.

Hmm? Gabriel.

Right.

Try lending him some money.

Your tune changes rather quickly.

Mrs. Hernandez, why don't we get you

checked out at the hospital?

- Thank you. - Yes.

All right, let's do a background check on Kevin.

Let's see if he had issues with anybody.

Keep an eye out for this angelic witness.

Hey, maybe it was one of your brothers.

Seriously, is it one of your brothers?

Preposterous.

My Father doesn't send my siblings down

to intervene in petty robberies in Pacoima.

He only sends them to harass me.

Oh, and speaking of...

Hello?

Right, I'm here.

What's so dastardly important?

Okay, Luci, I think we made a mistake

revealing divinity to Charlotte Richards.

We? It was your idea.

But now I'm having second thoughts.

What if she tells someone?

Oh, no, you're right.

'Cause then that person might tell someone else,

who then might tell someone else, which could lead to

absolutely nothing happening 'cause no one will believe her.

Okay, look, you might not care, Luci,

but the concept of divinity is too big

for humans to handle.

We don't know what she's gonna do now that she knows.

And I don't care.

You're right.

Oh, question, brother.

You don't happen to know if any of our siblings

might be in town?

Not that I'm aware of.

Ah.

Why?

Oh, it's probably nothing.

Just an old woman

in some unremarkable home said an angel

broke into her house.

Saved her life.

Stole one of her hideous figurines.

All that trouble for one ordinary human?

Yeah.

I mean, it would have to be one very bored

or deeply confused angel.

Yea...

I mean, there must be some sort of reasonable explanation.

And you don't remember how the figurine

- got into your bedroom? - No.

I mean, maybe it's a housewarming gift or...

or a sex toy.

Or a housewarming gift sex toy.

I just...

And it's identical to the one missing

- from that woman's house? - Yes.

But it's coincidence, surely.

You've been complaining about having weird dreams lately.

Including one where you couldn't control your wings.

I've also dreamt I was king of the centaur people.

Doesn't mean I'm gonna start wearing horseshoes.

There have been instances where people sleepwalk

when they're having difficulty dealing with painful situations.

Or, inversely, not dealing with them.

Is it possible you're not dealing with something,

and, thus, sleepflying?

That's absurd. I mean, what in the world

- could I not be dealing with? - I don't know.

Chloe and Pierce, maybe? Perhaps you're not as

okay with that relationship as you think.

Look, I am not an idiot, Doctor.

Clearly, I don't love them together,

But I'm also not a 16-year-old

crying in my bedroom with Adele on repeat.

And I'm definitely not this angel.

And, I know just how to prove it.